Late for Class
by canadiandutchiefangirl
Summary: Lenore and HG meet in college. Fluff. Fandom: Shipwrecked Comedy's 'Edgar Allen Poe's Murder Mystery Invite-Only Casual Dinner Party/Gala for Friends Potluck' - Lenore x H.G. Wells


Lenore ran down the nearly deserted hallway, slinging her bag over one arm as she checked the time on her phone in the other. Ugh, ten minutes late, and on the first day too. Not that she had been looking forward to this class – "Time Travel" – it had simply sounded the most interesting. Unfortunately, after glancing through the textbook which was currently weighing down her bag, it was a lot more theory and a lot less time travel. Also, a lot of math.

She skidded to a halt in front of the door, quickly fixing her appearance before quietly opening the door.

The lecture hall was empty.

"Are you serious?" she asked out loud.

From the other end of the hallway, a figure dashed her way. A backpack hung haphazardly off one arm, an old-fashioned looking pocket-watch in the other, and a pair of very steampunk-looking glasses about to fall from their perch on his black hair.

He almost stumbled as she stopped in front of her. "Hello," he said nervously. "are you here for the time travel class as well?" A cute accent lilted his words.

"Well, yeah, but it looks like the room number's changed." Lenore sighed.

"Oh, dear," mumbled the guy. "And I'm already late."

"Well, whaddaya say, Goggles, shall we find the right room together?"

The guy looked at her as though really seeing her for the first time. She was very pretty, much prettier than the people he'd normally socialize with. She had copper skin and black hair and the way her dark eyes were looking at him expectantly made him feel like melting.

_Wait, expectantly? Right, she had asked him a question._

"Yes, that would be… lovely," he fidgeted with his pocket-watch for a moment before putting it in his pocket.

"I'll check the rooms on the left, you can take the right," she walked over to the nearest door and peeked through the window. "Do you know what the professor looks like?"

"Yes," he said. "She has short grey hair and is rather fond of colourful scarves." He checked the next classroom. "Although, she never wears white, says it's not her colour." He glanced at the white lacy dress Lenore was wearing and blushed slightly.

"Yeah, well, not everyone can pull it off," she said nonchalantly, checking the next door. "How do you know all this about her?"

"I… I have read a lot of her work, at least, the less complex parts. She's one of the best in the area of study." He said this all very quickly, a little embarrassed.

Lenore turned and looked at him, her eyes filled with an intense curiosity. "You're really into this time travel stuff then."

"Why, yes." He hesitated. "Aren't you? I mean, isn't that why you're taking this class?"

"To be entirely honest, I needed the science credit and it sounded like the most interesting option. I'm a fashion major." She prepared herself for the condescending _Oh, that's nice_ that she always got from the science or engineering students.

"Oh, how interesting," he said. And he meant it. Lenore wasn't one to brag – okay, maybe a little bit – but her character judgements were usually pretty good.

"I'm Lenore, by the way," she said, holding out her hand to shake.

"H.G." said the guy. As he reached out to shake her hand, his backpack slid down his arm and he quickly slung it over his shoulder again. He laughed nervously and shook her hand quickly.

"Just initials?" Lenore asked, smiling and tilting her head to the side.

"You would go by HG too if your full name was Herbert George Wells," HG said.

Lenore laughed – but not unkindly – and HG blushed a little and thought that it was the most wonderful laugh he had ever heard.

They continued to look into classrooms and lecture halls, earning some odd looks from students and professors as they went. Lenore did most of the talking and HG listened intently, commenting thoughtfully every now and then.

"… and to be honest, I have no idea how Edgar and I ended up friends," Lenore continued. "He's all doom and gloom and prophetic ravens, but somehow we've just always clicked, you know?" She looked over at HG, who realized that he should probably respond.

"Yes, well, it does seem that sometimes the people that we are most compatible with, either platonically," he paused for a moment, then continued, "or romantically, are the people with whom we do not share many interests. Of course, there must be some connection between the two, otherwise they would have nothing to talk about and may never even meet."

"You're so right," Lenore said eagerly. "Take you and me, we're in different programs in very different departments, but…" she smiled, gesturing around her. "we're both lost on our way to the same class."

HG nodded and couldn't help but beam; Lenore had such an intensity about her, he felt energized just by being around her. He glanced into the next classroom and was dismayed to see that the professor standing at the front of the class had short grey hair and wore a bright blue scarf. As she turned to address the class, he was certain that this was the class they were supposed to be in. He glanced over at Lenore, who was already a few doors ahead of him. HG did not often make spontaneous decisions. He most certainly did not ever skip class. But there was something about this girl that made him want to change that. So, with a glance back into the classroom, he continued on.


End file.
